The Unlucky Day
by vasputiagmail.com
Summary: Agents Georgia, Utah, Minnesota and Massachusetts are sent on a training mission to an old space station orbiting an unknown planet. Little did they know that this mission would change their lives forever.


Many Years Ago

The modified F-41 EMSF Broadsword was nearly invisible as it floated towards the space station. On board, the four man squad was busy doing last minute weapons checks.

As he finished loading his Assault Rifle, Agent Georgia turned to his squad leader.

"Hey Minnesota. You sure that that this is the best plan for this mission. I mean, it's a bit dangerous for a training exercise."

Agent Minnesota loaded the last round into his shotgun, and responded, "Yes. If we try to dock the Broadsword they'll detect us. EVA is the only way we won't be spotted by the other team."

Utah piped up, "What's the matter Georgia, ya scared?"

"Shut up Utah."

"Quit worrying. We'll be fine, it's just a training exercise," Utah said. _Minnesota is completely freaking insane_ he thought to himself. The Project had only been running for a couple of weeks now, and none of the agents had any experience or training in zero gravity. Glancing at his best friend, Utah noticed that Georgia was flicking the safety on his rifle on and off, fidgeting like he was missing something.

Agent Massachusetts snapped a fresh magazine into his battle rifle.

"We're in range. Jump in 20 seconds," called the pilot.

"You boys know the plan. Utah and I will go in through the airlock, and secure the flag. Georgia, Mass, get to main compartment and shut off their external power junction. RV back on the drop ship in ten mikes."

"Firing Emp. Jump!"

The Freelancers jumped from the stealth fighter, and activated their thruster packs to guide them to the momentarily darkened satellite. The two teams split from one another.

Touching down on one of the out compartments, Minnesota placed a charge on the airlock. The door blew off he and Utah rushed inside, rifles raised.

Meanwhile, Georgia stood, or rather floated, watch as Massachusetts severed the secondary power routes, cutting off the station's power.

The wiring sparked as the back up generator kicked in, but the flow of energy was stopped.

Turning to Georgia, Mass began to speak, but was interrupted as a nearby airlock flew open.

Inside

Meanwhile, as far as the simulation soldiers guarding the flag knew, the satellite had simply been hit by a piece of space junk.

An engineer was sent to the airlock, where he manually shut the blast door. Turning around, he toppled as Minnesota hit him over the head with the butt of his shotgun.

Back in the control room, the remaining simulation troopers stood complaining about the lack of power.

"How could a group that owns faster than light space craft and laser weapons not be capable of building a decent space station? What the hell does "Project Freelancer" even do? From what I can tell, nothin. I mean, our standing orders are, and I quote 'guard the flag.' I'm just glad to be doing my part to save the galaxy from a bunch of genocidal aliens. 'Oh Blarg, they have a flag!' Give me a bre-"

"Andrews, stuff it! Somebody radio Chubs, he's been gone a while."

"Sir… he isn't responding, and shouldn't the back up power come online by now?"

"Must be those damn freelancers. They had to show up sooner or later. Man your battlesta-"

Suddenly there was a metallic noise, and something rolled across the floor. The Flashbang went off, and Utah and Minnesota rolled into the room, emptying their clips of paint rounds into the troopers.

"Clear!" Utah called, policing the paralyzed soldiers' weapons.

Minnesota picked up the flag, and switched on the team comm, "We have the flag, are you two at the bird yet?"

"Georgia came in over the radio, "Not… Exactly." Gunfire could be heard in the background. "Three hostiles are EVA with us. Taking fire."

Outside

Massachusetts fired a burst from his Battle Rifle, hitting one of the troopers, who was tethered to the station by a short cord. As the paint touched his armor, it instantaneously hardened, making the simulation trooper a living statue.

Georgia emptied half a clip in the troopers' direction, spun in zero gravity, and took cover behind a communications dish. Popping up, he was immediately bombarded with a stream of rounds from a trooper wielding a SAW light machine gun.

Thinking quickly Georgia suddenly had an idea. "Mass, I'm going to maneuver off the station, and around above those guys to flank them! Give me some covering fire!"

Mass nodded in acknowledgement, not wanting to waste time arguing.

Georgia slammed a fresh magazine into his assault rifle and prepped his thruster pack. _What a day for my lucky penny to go missing_.

Clutching to the side of the station, Mass spun about and fired in the direction of the simulation soldiers. At the same time Georgia planted his feet on the side of the station, pushed off and tapped the exhaust on the thruster pack.

That was when everything exploded. Blacking out for a moment, Georgia shook his head, as world spun before him. _Wait, I'm the one spinning!_

Utah came in over the radio, "Georgia, what happened!?"

"I… I think I had an equipment malfunction."

"Mass, do you have eyes on him?!"

"No."

"God, someone contact the Director! Now!"

A calm voice came in over the radio, "That concludes this exercise, all troops are to stand down."

A few minutes passed. Then a few more. Then a few more. Georgia reached and felt the back of his armor. The jet pack had blown right off his back.

"zzzzzzzzzzzrt Agent Georgzzzzzzzzzzzrt ou still there?zzzzrt"

"YES! This is Agent Georgia of project Freelancer! I'm still here!"

Static. Nothing but static. Eventually, even that went away.

Later

Utah had always found the Director's voice to be soothing, as he felt most southern accents did. He no longer held that belief. "I am very disappointed with your actions in yesterday's training mission, Agent Minnesota."

The Director stood, watched as his agents remained at attention. Continuing, "Not only was your plan ill-conceived: it was down right foolish. A Zero gravity insertion? None of you have had proper EVA training! I expect better conduct from members of Project Freelancer, conduct that you and your squad severely lack. And Agent Massachusetts. You must have known that Agent Georgia's tactic was dangerous, yet you allowed him to attempt it anyways."

Mass started to object, "Sir-"

"Save it Agent! You allowed your squad mate to attempt a zero gravity maneuver that would have taken years of practice to commit, and that's not even accounting for the possibility of a malfunction."

Mass hung his head. Minnesota continued to stare straight ahead.

"As of this time, your squad is disbanded. Agents Minnesota and Massachusetts, you've established yourselves as the least suitable candidates for the next phase of our project. You are being reassigned the Recovery Unit. You two are dismissed."

The two soldiers solemnly marched out of the room. The Director turned to Agent Utah, "Son, you were the only surviving member of your squad to have shown any sign of competence on the battlefield."

"Ummm… Thank you?"

"How would you like to help give a new piece of equipment a test run?"

"I'd be happy to."

Several Years Later

The two Recovery agents stopped along a riverbed, just upstream of a massive waterfall. Exiting their Mongooses, the agents readied their equipment.

"Recovery Nine, this is Command. What is your status, over."

"This is Recovery Nine. Recovery Six and I are about to enter the valley that the recovery beacons are coming from, over."

"Good to hear Recovery Nine. Command suggests searching Valhalla Outpost 17-A first, then 17-B. Proceed with caution. Since the beacons were activated, all other signals from the canyon ceased. If the simulation troopers are still around, have them show you around. Agents Texas and Wyoming were dangerous, and may pose a threat if they survived."

"Copy that Command, Recovery Nine out."

Recovery Six snapped a fresh magazine into his battle rifle.


End file.
